


Česnica

by viajeramyra



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Christmas traditions, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:47:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27817762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viajeramyra/pseuds/viajeramyra
Summary: Martín struggles to find the perfect Christmas gift for Mirko.Pure fluff.
Relationships: Helsinki | Mirko Dragic/Palermo | Martín Berrote
Comments: 10
Kudos: 32





	Česnica

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dana_norram](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dana_norram/gifts).



> Surprise! And Merry Christmas, Dana! 
> 
> Thank you for being such a wonderful friend this year. It’s been great getting to know you lately. I know you’ve needed something to put a smile on your face so I really hope this little fic starts your December off well. 
> 
> I’m sorry if this is ooc as it was my first time writing Helermo. But, I figured ooc fluff was better than not trying at all.

“For the last time,” Andrés started, pulling him in the direction of yet another department store, “I’m not telling you what you should buy Mirko for Christmas.” 

They’d been in the mall for hours now, crossing names off their respective lists. Martín never cared for shopping, especially when it came to doing so for the holidays. Growing up, it was just a reminder his interest never lined up with what his parents expected — another great failure written in the books. Being trapped inside during the summer holidays meant endless hours at home with family, longing to escape back to the safety of school. The last several years, he’d been grateful for the invitation to attend Sergio and Raquel’s family dinner with Andrés and Tatiana. It was easy, his only required task to bring the bottle of wine Andrés preselected for the dinner table. 

But the looming matter of having a boyfriend this year left a cloud hanging over his head. The bad transitioned to the worst when he had woke up the last Monday of November to a few scattered, carefully wrapped gifts already sitting on Mirko’s kitchen table. It was even worse when he had next seen Andrés and learned Serbian Christmas wasn’t celebrated until early January. The effort was made purely for him, and here he was, with nothing on his list for the man.

“Bastardo,” he cursed. “You had me ask Tatiana!” 

“I had you ask to help you complete your _own_ list. I’m perfectly capable of thinking of gifts to shower on my wife,” Andrés corrected, chuckling. 

His finger tapped the display table they’re currently standing in front of, rolling his eyes. “What do you call this? It was my suggestion.” He corrected, before shoving his hands into his pockets when Andrés ignored the rebuttal. “Mirko is impossible to shop for.” 

It was true, if you constituted the fact his boyfriend would be stupidly excited about any gift Martín brought to dinner as _impossible to shop for._ Andrés’ specific standards — and he’d learned his best friend would fake a smile while looking for a receipt — or Sergio, Raquel, and Tatiana’s unique tastes narrowed down his search substantially. But he could bring a bright yellow smiley sticker, wrapped with a sloppy bow, and probably bring his boyfriend to tears. 

“You’re thinking too much about it.” 

“You didn’t see the amount or size of the gifts he got me!” Martín huffed, twirling one of the small trinkets at the counter between his fingers. Andrés paid him no mind as he purchased the last of his gifts, as Martín continued to twist the lipstick between his fingers. “It’s torture.” 

“Oh, how _dare_ someone dote on you, Martín. It’s an abuse that mustn’t stand.” 

His arms crossed over his chest, following Andrés out of the store. “ _Thank you_ for your understanding.” 

“Martín, you are the most thoughtful person I know— and yes that includes Mirko before you even attempt correcting me. You’ll find something perfect.” 

When they left the mall, Martín found himself still in the same situation he started in. His fingers twitched in his lap, unsteady and uncertain. The car was filled with presents for everyone — except for his to Mirko. Even Andrés managed to find a lovely red flannel he knew would pair well with the dark jeans his boyfriend favored. 

———

When Mirko opened the front door, Martín’s eyes immediately narrowed. In the corner of the room, the stack of presents had nearly doubled in size. The wrapping was divided into two colors and if he had to guess, the size difference of gifts in silver with green bows had his name written somewhere on them. His shoulders dropped as he trudged into the house, grumbling as he walked. 

“You need your wallet taken away, gordito.” Mirko laughed in return, the gentle, quiet kind that made his face light up. It didn’t help his sour mood, but Martín’s scowl shifted into something closer to a playful smirk. “This is too much.” 

“It’s my first Christmas with you and your friends. I think I’ve done a good job.” 

Martín shook his head, running a hand through his hair. His teeth worried his bottom lip, uncertain on how to breach the topic. Mirko never needed to _ask_ what Martín wanted — he simply knew. He walked the rows of department stores, beaconed to items that had his name written in invisible, golden little letters; Martín failed to do the same. 

“You’re going to be very disappointed with your gifts if you keep this up,” he replied with a wave of his hand. “I spent an entire day with Andrés and there wasn’t a single thing worth buying for you.” 

“You don’t need to get me anything, Martín.” 

“Don’t say that, that’s worse!” 

Mirko smiled, before he stepped forward and brushed the hair away from Martín’s forehead. His lips painted a tender kiss on the new patch of skin, before he took hold of his hand. “I’ll be glad just to spoil you.” 

Martín rolled his eyes, before he wiggled his eyebrows. “Can’t I just put on a sexy Santa outfit and make your evening one to remember?” 

“You could,” Mirko laughed softly, as they made their way into the kitchen. “But you don’t have to.” 

“The offer still stands. I can’t promise my dancing skills have much improved.” 

“It’d be unfortunate for you to break a hip,” Mirko agreed. 

Ingredients were already laid out on the counters, divided on either side of the gas stove. The last few weeks they’d spent together in the kitchen, attempting a variety of Argentine and Serbian dishes. Mirko managed to master the hardest of Martín’s recipes, while his own ratio of burnt items were finally decreasing. 

Tonight was his boyfriend’s turn. The cans of beans and associated spices reminded Martín vaguely of the requirements for a basic chili. Preparations might be easy enough they wouldn’t require easy access to the fire extinguisher. 

Under the harsh light of the kitchen, Martín couldn’t help but watch as Mirko chopped the first onion. The year had brought endless surprises but his relationship with this man was his favorite addition. The simplicity of their date nights and the growing tradition of cooking together was far from what he ever thought he wanted. But watching Mirko tonight, being alone together while soft music played in the background, Martín’s heart swelled. 

“Te amo,” he said. 

Mirko stopped mid-chop, the knife stuck in the center of the yellow onion. He grinned, eyes lit up like the fairy lights hanging on his tree. His hands cupped Martín’s face, their noses bumping together before their lips met in a gentle kiss. 

“Volim te, Martín. Now pick up your knife, stop worrying about Christmas, and cook. You’re all that I need.” 

He raised his hands innocently before following Mirko’s directions. “Tell me about this dish.” 

“Prebranac has always been good for long winters, but now it’s a common meal for winter holidays.” 

“Always so festive with you. We will have to make it a theme this month.”

“Pecenica is another favorite,” Mirko stated as he placed the onion into the pot. 

“I’ll introduce you to pionono,” Martín countered. “What else?” 

“Česnica is a special bread we always eat. Everyone gets a piece at the table. A coin is baked inside and whoever finds the coin is said to have great luck through the year.” 

“Or a great choking hazard,” Martín teased. 

“It was always my favorite even if I’ve never won the coin.” 

“You’ve already taken the jackpot, you have me.” Martín snickered when the comment earned him a gentle tap on the hand with Mirko’s wooden spoon. “What, am I not to believe you have the greatest luck in dating me?” 

“I’d have greater luck if you’d finish your share of the food.” 

With full bellies, they found their way into Mirko’s bed at the end of their night. The thick bed sheets and his boyfriend’s natural heat warmed Martín pleasantly as he settled into his arms. It was far better than his nights spent under the electric blanket that turned off in the middle of the night, the chill always waking Martín from his deep sleep. As with most things, Mirko made life wonderful. 

Snores tickled his ear though, keeping him up a little while longer. He twisted into a better position, hoping sleep might come soon. His fingers traced lines on his boyfriend’s bare chest. He kept his eyes shut. Finally, Martín groaned with acceptance that sleep was not his friend tonight. 

Instead, his thoughts returned to what he should do for Mirko’s gifts. He had no desire to return to the mall and online shopping would most likely be even less helpful. How anyone sat around buying objects was something his childhood left him unable to understand. Martín refused to show up empty handed for the man he loved. Frustration bubbled, the fruitless attempts growing old. 

As he tried to close his eyes once again, a lightbulb flashed in his head. Materialistic gift shopping failed miserably, but maybe something sentimental would work instead. His hand stumbled blindly, finally finding his phone on the bedside table. After he dimmed the light, Martín searched until he found a video to play on silent. 

This could work. 

———

 _Christmas Eve_

A single red box sat on Martín’s lap, the bottle of wine portioned carefully at his side, as Mirko drove to Andrés’ villa in Toledo. The remaining gifts were stowed away in the boot of the car, but this one needed to be watched. As they drove, catchy Christmas songs played on the radio, Mirko’s voice cracking as he tried to sing along. The evening was already better than any celebration before it and the present he cradled would only solidify the day as one of his favorites. 

“So are you going to tell me what’s in the box that’s so special?” Mirko asked when the songs paused for a commercial break. 

“You don’t know how this whole Christmas thing works?” He replied, raising an eyebrow. “Quierdo, it’s a surprise. That’s why they’re wrapped up.” 

“You didn’t have to get me anything. Especially anything breakable.” 

Martín waved his hand, shaking his head. “I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to.” 

Andrés’ house smelled of the various foods Martín knew he and Raquel had been cooking all day. Paula and Tatiana waved at them as they entered, and the young girl was quick to her feet at the sight of the three carrier bags Mirko used to bring in the gifts. 

“You can put them here,” she instructed cheerfully, trying to stand on her tiptoes to look at the various name tags.

“Don’t touch, Paula,” Sergio reminded her, as he rounded the corner from the kitchen. “Feliz Navidad, Mirko, Martín.” 

“Feliz Navidad, Sergio,” they replied. 

“Raquel and Andrés are almost done, so you’re more than welcome to join us or listen to Tatiana and Paula on the piano.”

“We’re good here,” Martín answered, passing off the bottle of wine. When the rest of the presents were placed along the tree, he carefully set his on top of the others. For now, no hints could be offered to Mirko. 

“You’re more than welcomed,” Tatiana smiled, turning the page of the book for Paula. “It’s far more enjoyable than watching Andrés fussing about.” 

“He’d tell you he doesn’t,” Sergio corrected. 

“At least he can cook,” Mirko started as he and Martín settled together on the sofa. “This one is still learning the basics.” 

“I didn’t cause a fire all month,” Martín reminded, nudging him playfully. 

When Andrés greeted them all a few hours later, Martín lingered a few steps behind. By the time he joined them at the table, the little box between his hands, all eyes were set on him. 

“This gift is only appropriate now,” he said, before turning to Mirko. He kissed the center of his head, before adding, “Feliz Navidad.” 

Ever careful, Mirko removed the wrapping from the outside. When all that remained was the bakery box, he turned to look at Martín with the largest smile he’d ever seen. Little tears of joy pricked at his boyfriend’s eyes as he peeled open the box. “Martín,” Mirko whispered as he picked up the paper tray holding the bread. 

Martín’s baked česnica lacked the flare of beautiful designs seen on most of the images he looked at, though not for lack of trying. The knotted braid wrapped around the bread had taken him a week alone to accomplish something remotely similar. Without the aid of a master, he had been unable to complete the task as picture perfect as the guides. 

“It should taste better than it looks,” Martín laughed. 

“It’s perfect,” Mirko replied, kissing him sweetly after Martín took his seat. “This is česnica, a favorite of mine. Somewhere there is a small coin and whoever gets it will have luck through the year,” he explained to the rest of the table. 

“Take a picture,” Raquel joked, “I think Martín has outdone everyone at the table for Christmas. The Grinch’s heart has grown three sizes.” 

The laughter came to a halt with the tap of Andrés’ spoon against his wine glass. “Tatiana and I are grateful you were all able to join us this evening. We hope you enjoy the dinner and wish you all a very happy Christmas.” 

”Feliz Navidad,” they toasted in return. 

With Andrés’ welcoming Christmas speech finished and dinner beginning to be served, Mirko divided the bread accordingly. Despite dark brown on a couple spots, he’d successfully managed to cook something very well. The smile on Mirko’s face never shrank between bites, their hands intertwined under the table. 

“I got the coin!” Mirko shouted excitedly after a few minutes. 

Martín turned to face him, squeezing his hand. “I had that coin in my pocket the first time I told you I loved you. I hope it brings you good luck this year. It did for me.” 

“It already did. I have you.” 

The chatter of everyone else seated at the table muted, as though they were the only two left in the room. Martín kissed him again, before whispering, “Feliz Navidad, Mirko.” 

“Feliz Navidad, Martín.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Little tradition author’s note: I did take a little artistic liberty with having Martín give the bread as a gift for sentimentality! :) 
> 
> Hopefully that’s okay. It just worked with the idea in my head


End file.
